The Pelican & the Gulls
by mew-tsubaki
Summary: M&MWP. Drabble. It's the stupid things that keep coming to the tip of her tongue that force her to clam up, really. Mention if used, thx.


**The Pelican & the Gulls**

A HariPo drabble

by mew-tsubaki

Note: The _Harry Potter_ characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not me. **This pairing was discovered by my buddy, Morghen, so please give her a little mention if you write them**! **Thanks**! It is one of many of **Mew and Mor's Weird Pairings**, most of which you may find in Mor's and my forum, "Mew and Mor's Weird Pairings Fan Stories," found here (Just take out the spaces!): **http : / forum. fanfiction. net/ forum /Mew_and_Mors_Weird_Pairings_Fan_Stories /76194 /** Read, review, and enjoy! And check out and join the forum FUN!

- ^-^3

Yup, she's a pelican with the gulls. It doesn't seem to make much sense. "They're all birds," you might think. But the pelican stands out from the rest, getting attention she's not sure she wants or needs. Being in the spotlight is not all it's cracked up to be.

See, if she hadn't let her head wander where her heart's been meandering, then maybe their group wouldn't seem so fractured when they're all together. Dominique, so cheery and bubbly. Roxanne, so feisty, spicy, and charming. …Lysander, so sharp with his "polite" tongue and curious expressions. And then there's her, Victoire, who's not really a part of the group.

It's a morbidly funny thing, that hits her heart with a ping, and suddenly the pain zings as she watches their backs from a little distance, a little far behind. See, she realizes that though four people are walking together and though they might as well be one soul...the sidewalk's only wide enough for three bodies. Just three bodies, so she must go.

Victoire's always been a little different from the rest. Oldest of her family, oldest of her friends…and it's not the first time that she's been angry at Lysander for that look in his eyes, the one taunting her—"You're the glue of our group, you hold us together"—because if she were really the glue, she wouldn't feel so brittle, now would she?

For a moment—one _golden_ moment—they turn away, forgetting to pull her along on the outskirts of their gravitational pull. And she's almost happy, because then she thinks that she might…escape, or something like that. No, "escape" isn't quite the word she needs, but if she can just get a second to herself, clear her mind, get a chance to unwind, then maybe her heart and head will fall out of sync and she can open up some instead of remaining quiet like a jerk while her three friends have fun around her.

But that's not going to happen. That'll never happen, not so long as Lysander keeps glancing back at her. He looks a little torn himself, trying to keep up with Dominique and Roxanne, who are worried, too, but know when to leave good enough alone. But he also wants to walk with Victoire, get a smile again from Victoire, start up even a little conversation with Victoire.

Yet she can't even look him in the eye. She's been feeling sick since he turned up to hang out with them, because she noticed a long time ago that her heart and head get all jumbled when he's around. It's not as though she can say anything, though! Don't go bossing her around, claiming, "Honesty is the best policy" and all that load of bull. Sometimes you've gotta tell a little white lie to make it by even though you'll die…a little inside.

Dominique dangles back a sec, asking after her sister, her friend. "Are you okay?" But she's not going to get an answer. Nope, of course not. Victoire just shoos her onward, because Victoire is now finding it hard not to cry. She's ruining their day, and only because of three little words she cannot say.

Roxanne gives her a look, quirky and concerned. Victoire shrugs and even though the rain has cleared, there's still a hurricane raging inside this one witch, fighting not to scratch a horrible intangible itch.

Victoire falls into staring at the puddles, and everyone around her is trying not to get wet. But Victoire doesn't care. After all, she's that girl who steps _in_ the puddle, not over. She's just that Godric-awful word: "unique." But…

Until Lysander understands what she meant by informing him that she could never hate him—"it's the opposite of hate"—until Dominique learns that no, she's _not_ all right—until Roxanne realizes that avoiding a situation or a broken person is not the same as solving them…

Victoire will be a pelican with the gulls, with a clear blue sky—and two broken wings, unable to fly.

- ^-^3

**Heavy angst. But aren't most of my Vicsanders? But I also focused on the friends, too, so this wasn't wholly romance. The romance is Vic's problem, though. Whoever said it was easy risking a friendship for a chance at love? B/**

**Reviews are luv…and huggles, thanks.**

**-mew-tsubaki :]**


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